


Love Potion No. 10

by TempestHale



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Ineffable Kinktober 2020, Kinktober, M/M, Multi, Other: See Story Notes, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestHale/pseuds/TempestHale
Summary: Collection of 200-1000 word ficlets based on Quefish's Ineffable Kinktober 2020 prompts. A celebration of love between just-enough-of-a-bastard and deep-down-really-a-good-person.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020





	1. Day 1: Licking/Biting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has an oral fixation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags: kissing, licking, biting, nibbling, oral sex, insatiable angel.

An angel walked hand in hand with a demon around St. James Park. A pink tongue peaked out to lick pink lips, and the angel moaned.

“Lunch was just scrumptious, my dear. We must do this more often!” Aziraphale insisted.

The demon nodded. “Anytime you want, angel. Just say the word.” As they neared the duck pond, said angel spotted an icecream cart, and tugged on his companion’s hand excitedly. Crowley took the hint, approaching the seller and ordering for both of them.

When they both had their treats in hand, Crowley and Aziraphale sat down on their favorite bench to watch the ducks.

The angel suckled delicately at the strawberry lolly Crowley had gotten for him. Every lick was accompanied by a lascivious moan, driving the demon wild as the ducks carried on, unknowing or uncaring about the eldritch beings watching them.

“You know me so well, Crowley. This is hitting just the spot, my dear!” Aziraphale cooed.

Crowley pounced, licking Aziraphale’s lips for a taste. “It does taste quite good, angel. I can see why you like it,” the demon smirked, going in for a second kiss. This time, he parted the angel’s lips with his tongue, tasting inside as well. Aziraphale moaned in response, grabbing greedily at the demon’s crimson locks. Crowley teased Aziraphale’s tongue into play, slick muscles twisting together in heightening arousal. He licked at his angel’s chin, then his neck, breathing filth into his ear.

“I think this is even better though, don’t you agree?” Nibble. “You are absolutely mouthwatering, angel.” A sucking kiss. “I want you, Aziraphale,” Crowley husked.

“Oh my dear boy, yes—except—we’re quite exposed here, aren’t we?” Aziraphale panted, glancing around the park. 

“Not a problem, angel,” Crowley said, clicking his fingers. They were transported to the demon’s Mayfair flat, to the center of his obscenely large bed. He laid the angel back on the sinfully soft sheets and crawled over Aziraphale, bent on all fours. Their legs intertwined as Crowley pressed himself against his love.

“Better?” Crowley leaned down to press a kiss to the angel’s plush lips.

“Much. Thank you, dear,” Aziraphale returned the kiss fervently, pulling Crowley flush to his body to feel his warmth. As the heat between them bloomed, the demon began grinding against the angel’s plump thigh, feeling an answering hardness against his own. He continued his licking, nibbling path from before, working his way down the angel’s neck. 

“Why’d’you insist on wearing so many layers, Aziraphale?” Crowley complained as he wrestled with the other’s waistcoat, shirt, and tartan bow tie. The angel chuckled and snapped his fingers, miracling his top layers to hang in the closet. "Finally!" the demon murmured, sucking a love bite onto the angel's chest and reaching to palm his cock through his trousers. He was just about to unzip the angel's fly when he found himself on his back.

"That's very nice darling, but I think I'm in the mood for another treat," Aziraphale smirked. "If you would be amenable?" A pointed look at the tent in the demon's trousers. A tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

"Ngk."

"I'm sorry dear boy, I'm going to need a better answer than that. A clear yes or no, please."

"Yes, yes, please, angel," the demon gushed pushing his far-too-tight trousers and pants down in a complicated wriggling motion. Aziraphale fell on him hungrily, swirling his tongue around the purpled cockhead, then swallowing Crowley down to the root. With every bob of his head, the blond made obscene moans, savoring the musky skin and salty fluid he found there. Soon Crowley had his long fingers tangled in white-blond curls, pumping his come into the angel's mouth.

Aziraphale pulled away with a pop, then began to lick a trail back up to Crowley's lips, taking a small detour to bite at his pebbled nipples before capturing the redhead's mouth in a kiss. 

"That was fantastic, angel. Fuck."

"Excellent, dear. When do you think you'll be ready to go again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how many of these I will be able to do because school is absolutely insane (and I'm the teacher)! Also, Hope, Abandoned is not abandoned. I have been working on the next 2 chapters, but they just aren't quite there. Thank you for reading and Happy Spooky Season!


	2. Day 2: Distracted Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While fucking Crowley, Aziraphale can't help but think of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: penis-in-nonspecific-orifice sex, mention of wings, celestial beings.

Aziraphale thrust lazily into Crowley who was bent over the kitchen counter. The morning light streamed in through the window, streaking across the demon’s freckled back. The angel lost himself tracing secret patterns, constellations known only to his eyes.

He was caught in a reverie of an earlier time, a white-clad Crowley molding galaxies with his delicate hands, placing twinkling star systems into the vast cosmos where they spun around each other in a dance only the redhead could comprehend. Aziraphale closed his eyes, running his palm over Crowley’s shoulder where his wings, once iridescent and reflecting every color of light, attached to his spine. Strong muscles laid over bone, smooth feathers ruffling under his touch on the ethereal plane.

“Everything okay back there, angel?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry my dear,” the blond shook the fog from his head, “I got swept away there, I suppose.” Aziraphale settled back into his body, his mind centered on his task. He grasped Crowley’s hip, every thrust accompanied by a kiss to the redhead’s back. He leaned over the demon, full belly pressed to the demon’s lean back, sharing warmth with his closeness.

“Aziraphale, I’m close. Touch me?” Crowley begged. Aziraphale nodded against the demon’s back, wrapping a hand around to stroke Crowley’s cock in time with his thrusts. Crowley cried out as he came, back arching, splattering his chest and the floor with his spend. Aziraphale followed immediately, spilling into the demon. He panted into the red locks, rubbing circles into the other’s hip. 

Crowley lifted a hand, threading his fingers into the angel’s fluffy curls. “‘M not sure what I did to deserve you, angel, but I’m glad I did.”

“Oh, my dear boy. Don’t you know? You hung the stars.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter this time, but I did what I could ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope y'all enjoyed!


	3. Day 3: Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wakes up Crowley from his quarantine nap. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: kissing, tenderness, too much wine, fluffy fluffy fluffy

“Thank you, angel.”

“For absconding with you in the middle of the night?”

“No, Aziraphale. For rescuing me.”

“From what, dear boy? Waking you from your napping, again? Bedhead?”

“You bastard.” Crowley smirked. “No. I mean from...ngk--” the serpent paused. “From my transcendental--”

“Boredom?” the angel offered.

“No, angel. Just, just c’mere.” The demon fell forward, embracing the angel. Aziraphale returned the embrace, squeezing his serpent in strong arms. 

Crowley guided them to sit on the sofa in the back room of the bookshop, where the angel had transported the demon a few moments ago when he could no longer withstand Crowley’s absence. Crowley held Aziraphale’s face in his palm, stroking his cheek with his slender thumb.

“Aziraphale, I lo-” Crowley started.

“I know, dear,” the angel cut him off, pressing their lips together softly. They stayed on the sofa the rest of the night, sharing tender confessions and more than a few bottles of wine. 

By the time the weak morning light began to stream in through the window, Crowley felt much more honest, as well as much more brave than he had the night before.

“You saved me from loneliness. I was so bloody lonely without you.”

“Oh my darling, why do you think I used a miracle to get you here?” Aziraphale replied. “I know we agreed to be careful with them, but I simply couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered doing a Bastille scene, but then remembered it's #wakethesnakepart2 so ... this happened.


	4. Day 4: Lap Dance/Strip Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cut-scene from future chapters of Hope, Abandoned. Crowley treats Azi to a private show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: lingerie, strip tease, lap dance, frottage/grinding, masturbation, coming-in-trousers, dirty talk

“Are you ready, angel?” Crowley called from the bedroom.

“Whenever you are, dearest,” Azi replied from his perch in his armchair.

Music began from the speaker and a long leg, wrapped in lace stockings peeked from the bedroom door. The dim lamplight cast shadows against the far wall and casting a spell on the blond in the chair. He leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the redhead, even though he hadn’t fully emerged from his hiding space yet.

Crowley slunk into the main room of the flat, heels clicking on the hardwood floor in beat with the slow, thumping music. When he reached his place in front of Azi, he stopped and did a slow turn, letting the angel take in his full get up.

High heeled black stilettos, his crimson-painted toes peeking out of front through the lace stockings that hugged his lean legs like Azi so yearned to do. But they had discussed this before - Azi was not allowed to touch - only look - and Crowley would tie him down if he had to. North of the redhead’s extremely distracting thighs sat a pair of silky black knickers, barely containing Crowley’s straining erection.

“Do you normally get this turned on when you dance?” Azi blinked, temporarily brought out of his lustful haze.

“Shut it, angel,” Crowley snapped, snapping his hips in time with the music. “If you want this to continue, you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut, unless it’s to pay me compliments, yeah?”

“Yes sir.”

The redhead continued his sensual movements, titillating the blond. He ran his hands over his lace-covered torso, teasing, shifting closer and closer to Azi as he danced.  Crowley slithered toward the armchair, finally resting a hand on Azi’s chest.

“I thought you said no touching, dear.”

“And I thought I said no talking?” Crowley retorted. “Besides, it’s  _ you _ who can’t touch.  _ I _ can do whatever I want.” Crowley smirked while Azi bit his lip in frustration. The redhead took it as a sign that he was doing well, and continued with his plan; he lifted a foot onto the arm of the chair, grinding his hips against the air in front of his boyfriend’s face. Azi licked his lips, but said nothing.

Crowley did a few more moves, turning himself around to show off his pert arse and lean back, doubly attractive when bent double in front of the chair, stroking his slender hands up his stocking-clad legs. Standing, he finally removed the lace cami he had paired with his silk knickers, leaving the redhead nearly nude and the blond panting. Crowley then flopped unceremoniously into Azi’s lap, grinding his arse against the blond’s hard-on.

“Hard for me, angel?”

Azi whimpered.

“Talk to me, Azi. Tell me what I do to you.”

“Oh, fuck, Crowley. Seeing you in that lace, those—these stockings, I want to rip them off with my teeth! I want to tear those fucking knickers off and fuck you until you all you can remember is my name!”

“Yes, fuck! Fuck, Azi, keep going,” the blond only now realized that his boyfriend’s hands was inside said knickers and moving quickly. “I’m close, keep talking.”

Azi, determined to keep his promise of  _ not touching _ , but also  _ very much a bastard,  _ lifted his hips in time with Crowley’s grinding to increase the friction between them as filth spilled from his lips.

“You’re the filthiest man I’ve ever been with, Crowley, and I love it. I love you, grinding down on my cock while you bring yourself off, and loving every fucking second of it. Come for me, darling. Show me how dirty you are—come all over that gorgeous chest of yours.”

“Fucking—fuck!” Crowley cried, splattering his chest and stomach with his spend, Azi following soon after.

The blond wrapped his arm around Crowley’s chest, pulling his body flush and sinking back into the chair, uncaring of the mess, at least for now.

“Thank you,” he said, peppering kisses up and down the redhead’s neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I'm so proud of you.”

Crowley turned in Azi's arms, curling into the larger man's embrace. "I love you, Azi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, but (hopefully) worth the wait!


	5. Day 5: Edging/Orgasm Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley isn't giving in until his angel begs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: vaginal fingering, cunnilingus (barely there), edging, vaginal sex, dirty talk.

Crowley pumped two fingers in and out of Aziraphale’s searing cunt as the angel grasped at the sheets. Aziraphale lay on his back, legs bent at the knees and spread to accommodate the demon between them. A layer of sweat coated the angel’s naked skin, making him glow in the low lamplight of the bedroom. Wet sounds accompanied Crowley’s movements as he continued to torture the angel beneath him. Adding his devilishly long tongue to the mix, Crowley pulled a high whine from Aziraphale’s lips. When the angel began to clench around his fingers, Crowley pulled his hand away from the mouthwatering heat.

“Ah ah. Not yet, angel,” he tsked, licking the nectar from his digits while giving his partner a chance to catch his breath.

“Crowley, please. I’m begging you, please just let me co—“

“That’s not begging, Aziraphale, and we both know it,” the demon interrupted. “If you want to have an orgasm, you’ll have to do better than that.” The redhead sat back on his heels, watching the blond squirm where he lay. Aziraphale rocked his hips, and when that didn’t provide the relief he needed, he tried squeezing his thighs together, only to be thwarted by the demon in his bed.

“Naughty naughty,” Crowley said, prying Aziraphale’s knees apart. “No getting yourself off, either. My way or the highway, angel.” The demon lifted a brow. “Unless you  _ want  _ to be tied up. Is that what you want, Aziraphale? All you have to do is say so, angel.”

“Yes, please. Do whatever you need to Crowley. I’ll be good, so good for you. Please, please just let me come.”

Crowley clicked his fingers, and Aziraphale found his hands bound together with silky-soft rope, those bindings attached to the headboard. His ankles were bound to the foot posts, legs spread wide. He felt exposed, deliciously wet and waiting for Crowley’s next move.

“How do you want me, angel? You want my fingers again? My mouth?”

“Your cock. I want your cock, Crowley. Fuck me, please. I want you,” Aziraphale begged again. He wiggled in his bonds, trying to reach for the demon.

“Calm down. I’ve got you,” Crowley said, running a hand up the angel’s plush thigh. A keening whine slipped from the blond’s throat, the demon’s fingers digging into his flesh, so very close where he wanted them, but still not touching his burning center.

Then Crowley was on top of him, arms bracketing his head and yellow eyes boring into his. A shiver ran through Aziraphale’s body when Crowley’s cock entered his dripping pussy. The demon set a punishing rhythm, and his back arched with the sensation. Aziraphale cried out as Crowley thrust, unable to hold back his lust.

“Oh, Crowley. Yes, you feel so good inside me darling. You fill my cunt so perfectly, so full. I feel so full Crowley. Please, oh please let me come. Please, let me come with you.”

“That’ssss it, angel,” Crowley hissed, speeding up his thrusts and rubbing slow circles around Aziraphale’s clit with his thumb. “Sssay my name.”

“Crowley! Crowley! Crooowwwleeey!” Aziraphale called out a litany, the only word that mattered falling from his lips over and over as he neared his peak. The walls of his cunt fluttered when he came, pulling Crowley over the edge with him.

The demon panted, head resting on the angel’s chest. As soon as the redhead regained his senses, he clicked his fingers to disappear the ropes; gathering his angel into his arms, Crowley wound his limbs around Aziraphale, burying his head into the blond’s furry chest.

“Was it everything you wanted, angel?”

“And then some, dear,” he replied sleepily, stroking Crowley’s hair. “Now, let me hold you for a bit, hmm? I’m quite tuckered out—would you fancy a nap?”

Crowley answered with a snore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was telling my husband how many of these I had done, but I wanted to post them in order. Then he made a great point by saying , "If you wait to do that, you'll never post anything."  
> I hate to admit when he's right, but I am going to start posting these as soon as they are finished, with the chapter titles edited to say which day they are. This way I can keep up with a more regular posting schedule.
> 
> Also - we are off of school for a whole week! So I am hoping to *bang* more of these out during my break. *pun so so intended*
> 
> Enjoy!


	6. Day 8: Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is a brat, and no one (except Crowley) is surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: mild BDSM, spanking, dirty talk, begging, coming untouched, bratty sub, subspace, check-ins/colors, SSC

“Oh, angel,” Crowley purred. “Look at all this creamy, supple flesh. All for me. ‘M practically salivating.” He ran a black-nailed hand over the angel’s bare arse and thighs. A shiver ran through Aziraphale, anticipation building, bracing for the first hit, the first bite of pain followed by release. 

“Please, Crowley,” he demanded. The demon  _ hmmed _ , squeezing a cheek, then dragging his blunt nails over the tender skin. Crowley smiled to himself at the way four pink lines erupted on the pale skin, identical stripes of possession that faded almost as soon as they were created.

“Don’t tease me,” the blond whined again, wiggling his plush bottom to entice the demon into action. Crowley would not be swayed from his course; he merely lay one arm over the angel’s legs, just above the knees, to hold him still. Until Aziraphale begged, he would get nothing more than squeezing and scratching.

“I’ll do whatever I like, angel. This arse, these thighs? They belong  _ to me _ . And I don’t plan on doing much of anything until I hear you beg,” Crowley growled, sitting back against the sofa. The only contact between him and his angel left was where Aziraphale bent over the demon’s lap, and the blond whimpered with the loss of touch.

“Please, Crowley, please don’t stop touching me. Do whatever you like with me, but don’t stop touching me.” The words poured out of his mouth like honey, thick and sweet, and Crowley drank it up. “I’ll be good,” the angel begged, “I’ll be so good for you. Please just touch me, please I’m beg-“

_ Swat! _

“So good for me, angel. Now don’t forget to count.”

“O-one,” Aziraphale gasped, pleasure singing through his body. 

_ Slap! _

“Two.” His face was heating up, just like his backside, and he wanted more.

_ Slap! Slap slap! _

“Three! Four, f-five!” The angel’s prick, hard against Crowley’s thigh, throbbed with the blond’s movements. His body couldn’t decide whether to push up for more spanking or to grind down onto the demon’s lap--everything was so warm. Aziraphale wanted this exquisite torture to last; he wanted to live in this blissful space where nothing mattered except that he was in his demon’s arms. 

_ Crack! _

“Ha-ah!” Aziraphale cried out, having lost himself completely in the precarious balance between pain and pleasure. He panted for breath, hoping the demon would forgive him for losing count and continue with the spanking.

“Angel, where are you right now? Are you okay to continue? What’s your color?” Crowley sounded panicked, but Aziraphale couldn’t cotton on to why.

“Green, Crowley. And very eager to continue, if you please,” he said, muffled slightly where his face was smushed into the sofa cushions. ”If you would just remind me what number we’re at dear.”

The demon rubbed a soothing palm over his bottom. “Twenty-two, angel. We were at twenty-two.” He sounded much calmer now, and Aziraphale began to sink back into the heavenly headspace from before the interruption, prepared for the next series of hits.

_ Slap! _

“Twenty-three, dear. And harder, if you don’t mind.”

_ Crack! _

Aziraphale could feel the heat blooming again on his backside, and it radiated through his body. He hoped that the next few blows would bring him over the edge; he was so close, and his cock was pulsing against Crowley’s leg again.

“Twenty-four. Is that all you’ve got?” He could practically hear Crowley’s frown, then the redhead let loose.

_ Crack! Slap! SLAP! CRACK! _

“Oh, yes! Just like that--twenty-five--Oh! Twenty-six! Twe-ha! Twenty-seven! Eight! Twenty--” he broke off, spilling onto Crowley’s lap, squirming and smearing the mess into the demon’s trousers.

“Twenty-eight,” he finally gasped, letting his full body weight sag into the sofa. It was so lovely here, so comfortable, wrapped in his demon’s arms and scent, and he dozed off with Crowley petting his arse and thighs.

When he awoke from his nap, the demon hadn’t moved them from the sofa, but had shifted so the angel was lying face down, on top of Crowley, who had sprawled lengthwise across the furniture. 

“Welcome back, angel. Have a nice nap?”

“Oh yes, my dear Crowley. That was so lovely. Thank you.” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s mark, just under his temple.

“You know, Aziraphale, you have got to be the pushiest, brattiest sub anyone has ever punished,” Crowley grinned up at him.

“It’s called being a power-bottom, darling. Why don’t you ‘Google’ it?” He pushed himself from the sofa and began to walk up the stairs in search of a bath, ignoring the spluttering demon behind him.

“Hey! Angel!” Crowley called after him. “When the Heaven did you learn about Google?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I have a thing for Aziraphale begging. Who knew?


	7. Day 6: Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale takes a shot at this "modern technology."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: dating apps, Aziraphale being adorably out-of-date, sexting, masturbation

Aziraphale sank into the sofa in his back room as soon as the door to the book shop was shut and locked. For whatever reason, customers today had been particularly determined to actually _buy_ his books, and he had spent the whole day chasing them out of his shop. 

The angel tried to read, to relax his mind from the busy day, but he couldn’t seem to find the focus. Then he remembered the mobile device that Crowley had dropped off for him several weeks ago, still sitting, untouched on his desk. 

The mobile was one of many in a collection—Crowley always dropping by with the latest and greatest invention, trying to tempt him into joining the 21st century. It hadn’t worked yet, but tonight he was feeling curious.

He picked up the phone, looking all over for a button to turn it on; finding none, he tapped on the glass screen as he had seen Crowley do. The device came to life, several square icons obscuring what looked to be a picture of Crowley making a rude gesture in the background. _Naturally,_ he thought, _he never thought I would see this._

The angel tapped on one of the icons, a little owl face, and the screen began teaching him French. It took several tries for Aziraphale to figure out how to get out of the demanding language tutor, but eventually he was back to where he had started.

“C’est assez de ça,” he said, to no one in particular. 

Aziraphale was about to give up, just call the demon on his Bakelite, but then he saw an icon that piqued his interest—he tapped on it, and it began asking him questions about himself to make a “profile.” He spent a good hour filling in questions and coming up with a username—bookseller4004 felt appropriately anonymous. Then he was able to see what the “app” had to offer. 

It took him several tries to get the hang of swiping right or left, but once he did, he got up from the sofa to get a glass of wine to settle in for the night. It was almost like a game, picking and choosing who he might like to chat with. The control began to go to his head, along with the wine, and he found himself speaking aloud.

“Finally, I get a say—no, not a say, I get _the_ final word on what I do and whom I speak with and when! Ha! Who knew being retired could feel so wonderful?”

Amidst all his swiping, a match had been made. Aziraphale had hardly noticed, but then a message came through with a small dinging noise. The angel tapped on the red (1).

slitheredhere: hey sexy wanna chat?

Aziraphale tapped on the username so he could look at slitheredhere’s profile: the photograph alone had him entranced. The man was shirtless, black trousers slung almost indecently low on his hips, and just a hint of crimson locks brushing his shoulders. He was slim, beautifully so, and even in a still photograph, Aziraphale could tell that he would be graceful when he moved. The photograph cut just at the man’s neck, so his face wasn’t visible, but the angel had noticed that was relatively common for this app.

He began typing out his response.

_That’s quite forward of you, my dear boy. However I looked at your photograph and found you very enticing yourself. What would you like to chat about?_

_first time on here?_

_Yes, indeed. What is the usual etiquette for a conversation on this “app?”_

_i find ppl r usually to the point_

_whatre u here for?_

_I suppose I’m here to, well, play a bit. Nothing serious, you understand._

_of course_

_no meeting irl?_

_I don’t think I would be up to meeting, no. I am rather a private person._

_What does “irl” mean?_

_in real life_

_fine with me_

_feel the same actually_

_Oh good! So nice to be on the same page. What do you like to do to relax?_

_the usual--a glass of wine, a little telly, stretch out naked on my sofa_

_what about u?_

_I also enjoy wine, but I’m more of a reader as you can probably tell from my username. Are you nude right now?_

_now whos being forward hm?_

_and to answer ur question, yes i am_

_whatre you wearing?_

Aziraphale had set his phone down in order to undress as soon as he had sent his last message. He was down to his shirt, unbuttoned over his undershirt, and his boxers by the time he looked at the phone, and Slitheredhere’s message.

_I’m down to my shirt and underthings, now. I was preparing to undress completely—you made it sound so lovely._

_oh u should. tell me_

_what would do if i were there?_

_I think I would start by finishing removing my clothing. Then I would invite you to sit with me. I would want to touch you, your hair, your neck, before I kiss you._

_hot damn, i thought u said it was ur first time on here?_

_i would kiss you back, running my hands all over your body_

_youve got a great body, you know? when i saw your profile pic i knew i had to talk to you_

_My dear boy, thank you. I must say I am enamoured with your form as well. You must be ever so graceful, and those hips! I want to cover them in love bites, mark you up. Would you like that?_

_hell yessss bite me! i adore mixing pain and pleasure_

_im touching myself now_

_would you like to see?_

_Oh my goodness, yes! If you would be so kind._

slitheredhere has sent a photo [photo attached]

_Fuck._

Aziraphale gripped the bottom of his shaft tightly, staving off his impending orgasm. He drew in deep breaths, eyes closed to regain his composure.

_I apologise for the profanity, but your cock is simply heavenly. So long and lovely, just like the rest of you. I can only imagine it would feel just as lovely in my throat._

_agdksksskj_

_Fuck._

_Yes please, yes to all of it—i cant do this angel. im calling you_

The mobile in Aziraphale’s hand began to ring. He knew as soon as he answered, the demon would appear out of the telephone, in his bookshop, hard and wanting. Ready to give into his every desire. 

He pressed _answer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the text conversation is easy enough to follow - if not let me know in the comments and I will go back and add tags.


	8. Day 7: Hair Pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley likes having his hair played with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: hair pulling, hand job, reference to The Flood, honesty, oblivious angel, devious angel, spooning

Aziraphale picked up another lock of Crowley’s long hair and began to run the brush over it. The motions were soothing for both the angel and the demon, and had become part of their nightly routine since moving to the South Downs.

“Do you remember Mesopotamia, my dear?”

“‘Course I do. Lots of people, lots of sand. Then, very suddenly, lots of water and a lot less people. Why, angel?”

“Well, I was thinking about…” Aziraphale trailed off. “Do you remember the plaits you used to wear in your hair then?” he asked, picking up another tress to brush into glossy softness.

“Yeah,” Crowley said softly. “I remember them.”

“Could I—could I plait your hair?” Aziraphale asked. “Would you mind terribly?”

“Angel, I  _ love _ it when you play with my hair. Of course you can plait it.”

The angel gave a happy wiggle and began to section the red locks. He pulled the first section back, and Crowley closed his eyes with the sensation. It had been so long since anyone else had played with his hair like this. He was determined to savor it.

Aziraphale hummed as he worked, pulling lock after lock back into an intricate plait. About halfway down Crowley’s crown, he grasped a section of hair to pull it back, but jerked his arm and tugged.

“Oh! Dear boy I am so sorry. I never meant to pull your hair!” The angel fell over himself to apologise, pressing a kiss against the demon’s temple.

Crowley sat serenely at the vanity, eyes closed and focused on his breathing. He had known that he liked having his hair played with, brushed and plaited for him, but this? That tug had gone straight to his cock, and he wanted  _ more _ .

“It’s, er, it’s fine. Actually, angel. It feels good.”

“I know it feels good to have your hair done. That’s why I’m doing it—but I’m so sorry that I pulled it! I never meant to.”

_ How can someone so clever be so stupid? _

Crowley’s face flamed red, but he was determined to be honest. They had been friends for millennia, and lovers now for a few months. Opening up was far from easy for either of them, but they had promised to always be honest, whatever that meant.

“No, angel. I mean that pulling it felt good. Would you mind doing it again?” 

“Oh. Oh!” the angel gasped as the realization hit him. “Certainly darling, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Aziraphale delicately selected another tress, this time from the other side of Crowley’s head, and swept it back toward the plait. He grasped the tress with his whole hand, slowly increasing the pull until he heard the demon moan, then held it there until yellow eyes blinked open at him. The angel then worked the piece into the plait, eyes never leaving Crowley’s in the mirror.

“Again, angel.”

Crowley maintained his gaze on Aziraphale’s blue irises until the pleasure zinging through him forced him to close his eyes. The angel pulled his hair, so slowly, methodically, it felt as if each individual strand were connected directly to his prick, lighting up each nerve along the way. 

Aziraphale continued meticulously drawing Crowley’s hair back into the plait, each pull slow. Purposeful. Strong.

The plait grew tighter with each section that was added. Aziraphale finished the plait, then reached out a hand to Crowley for a hair elastic. The demon, lost in his own pleasure didn’t respond at first, so the angel wound the end of the plait around his hand, pulling Crowley’s head backward to lean against his chest.

“Could you hand me an elastic darling?”

“Hm… oh, o’courssse angel. Here y’go,” Crowley slurred, eyes still closed. He passed the elastic to Aziraphale who quickly wrapped it around the end of the plait, but didn’t let go. He held the red locks steady in his fist, unmoving.

“Why don’t you follow me to the bed, darling?” Aziraphale gave Crowley’s hair a light tug, the demon rising from his vanity chair and allowing himself to be led around the room. His yellow eyes were barely open, pupils blown with lust. He lay down where the angel guided him, and closed his eyes again when Aziraphale lay down behind him.

“Would you like me to take care of this?” Aziraphale whispered, lightly running his fingers over the demon’s hard cock where it tented his pajama bottoms.

“Pleasssse, angel,” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale slipped his hand into the demon’s pajamas, stroking his cock with the same methodical pace that he had plaited the demon’s hair. Pleasure built at the base of his spine, like flames licking up his body. 

When he came, there was no fanfare. Just a steady release, his cock throbbing in time with Aziraphale’s strokes, never wavering. He continued to float in that serene space, mind blank and body weightless in the angel's arms.

"Love you, angel," he slurred, drifting off into sleep. Aziraphale kissed his crown, miracled away the mess they had made, and pulled Crowley close all in one motion. The angel would spend the rest of the night carefully considering the implications of his new discovery. If his demon enjoyed having his hair pulled--Aziraphale could certainly work with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who DOESN'T love having their hair played with? TBH, it's one of my fave things in the world.


	9. Day 11: Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother Francis has had it up to here with Nanny's scandalous wardrobe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Nanny!Crowley, pre-Apocolypse, six millennia of UST, that dam's gotta break sometime, cunnilingus, lingerie, lace, idiots in love

_ Knock. Knock. _

Aziraphale opened the door to find Nanny Ashtoreth, as expected, on his doorstep.

“Nanny, please, come in.” He held the door open, ushering her in out of the cold. He gestured toward the table where he had set out tea and biscuits when he had invited her over for a chat.

“What did you call me over for, angel? I’m meant to be reading bedtime stories.”

“I wanted to talk to you about your attire,” Aziraphale stated firmly, hands clasped in front of him.

Nanny cocked her hip, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl. “What,  _ exactly,  _ is wrong with my attire? Please, angel, enlighten me,” she hissed.

“Your top, for starters! It’s completely sheer!” the angel pointed accusingly.

“So?” Nanny shrugged.

“And you’re not wearing a brassiere!”

“And?”

“It’s inappropriate for the child to see that, Nanny! Even if you are trying to influence him to be, you know, evil.” Aziraphale put his hands on his hips, frowning.

“Well no one else has any complaints.”

“They’re just too distracted by—“ Aziraphale started.

“Oh, I’m sorry,  _ Brother Francis _ , is it distracting you from your work? Here, let me take it off so you can concentrate.” Nanny quipped, cutting the angel off mid-rant. She began to unbutton her blouse, starting with the cuffs, but quickly moving on to the front.

“Stop, stop! What are you doing?” the angel flapped his arms, trying to make the demon quit undressing.

“Just fixing my attire.” The shirt was gone. “Should I get rid of the skirt too? It’s rather tight, might give the young lad  _ ideassss, _ ” she smirked, moving to unzip the black pencil skirt. It fell to the floor with a shimmy of her hips, and Aziraphale gaped at her underthings.

Lace thong knickers.

Silk stockings.

Garters.

And nothing else.

“Like what you see, angel?”

He couldn’t be entirely certain, enchanted as he was by the vision before him, but he thought he felt himself nod. Nanny grinned, reaching out with one red-nailed hand to grab Aziraphale’s bow tie and pull him to her. They stood, chest to chest, breaths mingling.

“This okay, angel?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again. There would be no turning back from this moment if they went forward. Nanny—Crowley—had been pining after the angel for millennia. Since the beginning. She would give anything for this, even if it only happened once. She may already be damned, but she would never forgive _ herself _ if the angel had even one iota of regret or doubt in his mind. 

Aziraphale brought one hand to rest against her cheek, thumb sweeping across her bottom lip.  _ My lipstick is smearing _ , she thought, unable to look away.  _ Please say “Yes,” angel. _

“I love you.”

Crowley surged forward, smashing her mouth against Aziraphale’s. His tongue peeked out, licking at the seam of her lips. They fell open, accepting him inside to taste. Crowley melted into the angel’s arms.

Together they stumbled into the small bedroom, Crowley climbing on top of the angel as he lay back in the bed. The small bedside lamp provided just enough light that she could see her lipstick smeared across his face and jaw, and the sight sent pulses of desire straight to her dripping cunt. She snapped her fingers, and his clothes disappeared into the tiny but no doubt priceless, antique armoire in the corner. She might have been rushing into this headlong, but Crowley knew that if she damaged his clothing, there would be hell to pay.

Aziraphale grabbed her hips, grinding his hard cock against her wet center. She tilted her hips up and away from the delicious friction, smirking at the confused look on the angel’s face. It vanished as soon as she began to push her panties down and off, revealing herself to Aziraphale fully.

He pounced, turning Crowley onto her back. He held her down by her hips, peppering kissing over her chest and stomach. He gazed up into her yellow eyes, now bare of her dark glasses, asking silently for permission. With a sweep of red-nailed fingers through his hair, she granted it and guided him simultaneously.

The angel started tentatively, a slow delicate lick from her arse to her clit. He pulled away to gauge her reaction, but he needn’t have worried. She shivered with the contact, digging her nails into his scalp. She used her grip on his hair to draw him back in and focus him on his task.

His tongue circled around her clit, teasing the nub from its hiding place. He spread her folds with his thumb, lapping at the sweet nectar. Every sound she let pass her lips, every gasp, every moan, every keening whine, informed his methodical exploration. 

Crowley squeezed her thighs around the angel’s head, her hips grinding against his face as he focused solely on her pleasure. Her arousal grew at that thought, that Aziraphale cared for her so greatly that he would put her above himself.

“Aziraphale, I’m close. I’m going to--” she broke off with a gasp as the angel sucked at her exposed clit, running his thumb in circles over her opening. The walls of Crowley’s cunt spasmed with her orgasm. Her legs shook and her body trembled. Aziraphale held her steady through it all.

He raised his head to meet her eye again. Pupils blown, eyes nearly black with lust; cheeks flushed ruddy; mouth smeared with lipstick and her own juices, the angel’s face was the very picture of sex. Crowley cradled his cheek in her hand, stroking her thumb over his lip. His jaw opened to allow the digit inside. He sucked it in, flicking his tongue over the tip.

Crowley whimpered.

Aziraphale pulled back with a pop. “Was that alright, darling?”

“Ngk!  _ Was that alri-- _ I have been wanting to do that with you since The Garden and you ask if it was alright? Aziraphale, you ridiculous angel.”

The angel chuckled at her response, turning to kiss her palm. “If it was alright then,” Crowley rolled her eyes at the absurdity, “then I wondered--may I do it again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very loosely inspired by amazing fanart by @usedtobehmc on IG.


	10. Day 9: Dom/sub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley will do whatever Aziraphale asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Dom!Aziraphale, sub!Crowley, human furniture, objectification, blow job, sex toy, butt plug, anal play, praise kink, checking in, all the feels

Crowley’s on the floor, on hands and knees, Aziraphale’s feet crossed in the small of his back. Tonight, he’s acting as Aziraphale’s footstool while the angel reads. 

During the first hour or so, Crowley had been fine. He’s a strong demon; he can stay in this position for the whole night if his angel asks him to. But the position isn’t the only challenge Aziraphale had given him—the plug nestled in his arse buzzes against his prostate. 

Crowley’s sweating, almost starting to shake, when Aziraphale calls for take out. The angel sounds calm and collected, and Crowley only understands the general tone of the conversation, if not the exact content.

Soon it will be time to leave to pick up the food, and Aziraphale will leave Crowley in the backroom, naked and waiting. A break, not in the scene, but in stimulation, mostly for Crowley’s sake. 

While the demon waits for his angel to return, he focuses on his breathing. In. Out. Deep unnecessary breaths to steady him when Aziraphale returns. Useless lungfuls to ground him, prepare him for his angel’s next game.

When the angel returns, Crowley’s mind is carefully blank. His body is still on hands and knees, but no longer shaking; his strength regained during the angel’s short absence. He hears fingers snap, and without opening his eyes he crawls to the angel’s feet and kneels, head bent. Waiting for his next command.

The angel sits to eat his meal, while Crowley supplicates at his feet. Between the two of them, only Aziraphale makes any noise, but his moans of appreciation are enough for both of them. Crowley is hard and dripping where he kneels, hands on his thighs, at his angel’s feet. He  _ knows _ Aziraphale can see his cock.  _ Knows _ that Aziraphale knows that he’s hard. He’s embarrassed, but the flush of shame only makes him that much more aroused.

When he finishes eating, Aziraphale does the dishes by hand, then returns to the sofa. He pats the space next to him.

“Come on up, pet.”

These are the first words the angel has spoken to him all night, and he clings to them like a lifeline. Crowley climbs onto the sofa, unsure of how to position himself, but his angel soon arranges him how he wants. His head is in Aziraphale’s lap, body stretched out along the length of the antique furniture, and the angel is petting him. Long strokes down his side, over his flank, then repeating. Lulling him into a senseless void, floating aimlessly until his angel gives him direction. 

Crowley doesn’t hear or feel the angel’s fly being undone, but he opens his eyes and upon seeing the angel’s cock, begins to drool. He swallows loudly in silent space, turning his head to look to the angel for permission. Aziraphale holds his head in place with a hand, guiding the demon where he wants him. 

Crowley swallows the angel down, twining his bifurcated tongue around the shaft. He’s been waiting for this all night, and the way he bobs on the angel’s cock, it shows. 

“Easy now, pet,” Aziraphale gentles, replacing his hand on the demon’s head. “Steady.”

Aziraphale never speaks much during these scenes, only giving Crowley the barest of instruction, direction needed for him to be good. They had been together so long, most of the time words were unnecessary. But a single word, and Crowley can bring the night to a halt—two syllables and Aziraphale will wrap him in his arms and heap praise on him until the demon can’t stand it. He’s starting to understand the angel’s obsession with books; words hold so much power.

Crowley can tell the angel is getting close, feel his fat cock throbbing in his mouth. No words will be spoken, but the angel gasps as his prick pulses, filling Crowley’s throat. Then he tucks himself away, and goes back to petting the demon. Aziraphale scratches at his scalp, a reward for a job well done. Crowley nuzzles his face into the angel’s thigh and makes a keening sound high in his throat when his own arousal makes itself known again.

Aziraphale continues petting Crowley, one hand running from his nape to the small of his back, then over the curve of his arse, ending with a press to the plug still nestled inside. With a tap to his hip, Aziraphale directs Crowley to roll onto his front. Another tap, and the demon is grinding against the sofa as the angel plays with the plug, pressing in and flicking the switch. The plug buzzes directly against his prostate, the demon reaching his peak faster than the angel could grant him permission.

“That’s it, love. Come for me,” Aziraphale whispers as he pulses against the sofa, running his hand through the demon’s locks, and turning off the plug before the stimulation becomes painful. “You were so good for me Crowley, just look at you. You waited so patiently, you deserve this. You deserve the world, my love.”

Crowley whines pathetically at the praise, face heating in shame. He doesn’t deserve any of this, he’s a demon. He’s not even fit to kneel at the angel’s feet, and he knows it, but he’s so grateful Aziraphale will let him bask in this, even for a moment.

“You’re the most blindingly beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Crowley. So graceful, but strong. You hold your positions so well for me, and respond so quickly to my commands. As if you can read my mind. So so clever, my dear boy. I’m so lucky to have you. That you  _ let _ me have you.”

The demon sobs now, tear stains soaking into the angel’s trousers. He wants desperately to accept the angel’s words, but it’s so hard. Crowley’s never been worthy of anything his entire existence, but if he can earn the angel’s love… 

“My darling. Are you alright? Shall I stop?” Aziraphale is so good about checking in. He always seems to know just when Crowley is on the verge of being overwhelmed.

“Just hold me,” is all the demon can say. But it’s all he needs to say. Words have power, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I missed any tags, please let me know! Also, I don't generally write in present-tense anymore, so this was an extra challenge for me! I had my husband check it for grammar errors, but neither of us are experts. All mistakes are mine :)


	11. Day 13: Kink-free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just two man-shaped beings making dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: fluff, The Rolling Stones, cooking together, Crowley is so insecure, but Aziraphale loves him so much, impromptu dance parties, sweetness

“It’s been quite a month so far, hasn’t it dear?”

“I’d say so, angel. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Or in you, Crowley.” The angel chuckled at his own joke, while the demon choked on his morning coffee.

“You’d think I’d get used to it, but even now I still can’t get used to the idea of you being so… so…”

“Free-spirited?”

“Kinky, Aziraphale. You can be downright dirty when you want to be.”

“Do you not like it, Crowley?”

“I love it, angel! I love you. Just, er, takes some getting used to, yeah?”

“Well, then, why don’t we take a break for today, hm? Do something kink-free, as it were?”

“Yeah? What would that be, you old bastard? I can see your wheels turning.”

“I just thought we could cook a nice meal here at home, the two of us. What do you think?”

“Sounds innocent enough, but I think you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve—don’t think I can’t tell.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

Crowley started a roux according to Aziraphale’s strict instructions while the angel chopped carrots, celery, potatoes, and an onion to add later. When Aziraphale deemed the roux ready, he tossed in the onions while Crowley stirred.

“What’s next, angel?”

“Hmm, let’s see. It says here to cook the onions for five minutes, then add the rest of the veg and stock. And the spices,” the angel finished with a kiss to the demon’s cheek.

“Alright, then,” the demon agreed, then drew the angel’s arm around his waist. They stayed entwined while Crowley stirred, Aziraphale’s chin resting on the redhead’s shoulder. 

Crowley closed his eyes to bask in the warmth of the angel’s embrace. It reminded him of the early days in the Garden, lying on his favorite rock in the midday sun. He could fall asleep like this if he tried.

“Crowley. Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed. 

Crowley started out of his reverie, and noticed the onions getting too done in the center of the pot. “Shit, shit! Sorry, angel,” he hissed, stirring frantically. 

“It’s fine, darling. Where did you go?” Aziraphale stroked the demon’s cheek.

“Hngk. Just remembering my favorite rock. Back in the beginning.”

“Your favorite rock?” the angel asked, adding the ingredients to the soup pot. Crowley kept stirring. He had one job. He could do this one job without cocking it up, yeah?

“Yeah, by the water pool. Caught the sun at the perfect angle. Spent many an afternoon warming my scales. Remember?” 

Aziraphale covered the soup with the lid, gently lifting the spoon from Crowley’s grip and setting it on the spoon rest. “I remember watching you bask, my darling, and wondering what your scales would feel like under my fingers. I was too much of a coward to actually do it, then,” the angel finished breathily.

Crowley turned in the angel’s arms, nuzzling into his neck. “What about now?” The demon blinked and music began playing softly in the background.

“There’s nothing left to be afraid of, dear,” Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s chin, their lips meeting in a kiss. While brief, it sent shivers of pleasure down Crowley’s spine.  _ Nothing quite like being verbally, explicitly reminded that the man-shaped being you love gave up literal Heaven for you. _

A twangy guitar and Mick Jagger’s voice started playing, slow and sweet from the other room. “Dance with me, angel.” 

Crowley held out his arm for Aziraphale to take, keeping the other wrapped around the blond’s waist. Together they swayed around the kitchen, the demon humming the melody under his breath. Aziraphale lay his head on Crowley’s shoulder again, closing his eyes and trusting the demon to lead. After all, neither of them were particularly talented dancers, and this was no gavotte.

Crowley sang sweetly to Aziraphale, unable to keep the lump out of his throat as he thought about the meaning behind the words. 

_ Am I hard enough? _

_ Am I rough enough? _

_ Am I rich enough? _

_ I'm not too blind to see _

He might be with the angel now, but Crowley had pined for millennia. How many other songs had he accidentally inspired with his existential angst? (Angst that was typically exacerbated by whatever passed for alcohol in the area he was passing through at the time.) How many times had he wished, nay, prayed, for just one chance to dance with the angel?

“Oh, Crowley,” the angel said, cradling his cheek in one palm. They kissed again, spinning leisurely around the room. 

_ Brrrrring! _

“Fuck!”

“Oh my!”

The angel and demon jumped away from each other at the sound of the kitchen timer. Crowley’s cheeks and neck flamed red, and he turned to the soup pot, snatching up the spoon to appear alert.

“Must be time to add the dumplings,” Aziraphale whispered. He moved toward the bowl of dough, then began scooping balls of it into the soup. When the bowl was empty, the angel clicked his fingers, and the mixing bowl sorted itself back into the cabinet, clean. Crowley gave the pot a final stir, making sure the dumplings were covered in liquid before putting the lid back on and resetting the timer.

The spell of near silence had been broken with the flurry of activity at the stovetop, but they could just hear the final strains of the song from the record player. This time, Aziraphale took Crowley in his arms again, holding him tightly to his chest and speaking the lyrics in the demon’s ear. (For an angel of the Lord, member of the Heavenly choir, Aziraphale had a terrible singing voice, and he knew it. He was not about to subject Crowley to it.)

_ I don't need no beast of burden _

_ I need no fussing _

_ I need no nursing _

_ Never, never, never, never, never, never, never be _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be based on very similar events that happen in my own household every time my husband and I cook together. The recipe for the soup Aziraphale and Crowley make is below, and it is *amazeballs.*
> 
> https://www.theppk.com/2011/11/dilly-stew-with-rosemary-dumplings/


	12. Day 15: Shapeshifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale loves Crowley. In all his forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Aziraphale Has a Vulva, Aziraphale is not a scalie, Aziraphale is not NOT a scalie, Pre-estabilished scene, mild BDSM, heavily implied double-penetration, off-screen

“Darling? Are you in?” the angel calls from the foyer of the Mayfair flat. He toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat while waiting for a response.

A hiss rings out from the bedroom, and the angel changes course in that direction. His footsteps fall softly on the stone floors, only the swishing of his trousers giving away his movements. 

It’s enough.

Aziraphale only just sets foot into the bedroom when he’s swept up into the air, suspended, weightless. The beginning always reminds him of flying.

“Welcome, Azzzziraphale,” Crowley hisses at him, and this time the sound comes from behind. The serpent coils around him again, but not to constrict or to harm. Crowley is making sure that the angel is fully supported. That his angel will not fall, no matter what. Aziraphale sits on a large coil of muscle, covered in black, shiny scales; another wraps around his middle to keep him upright and pins his arms to his sides. Two smaller ones loop around his ankles, pinning them up to his thighs. The angel clicks his fingers and he’s naked, scales sliding over his bare skin sending shivers of pleasure over his body.

“Like thissss, do you?” the serpent’s face is next to his now, bifurcated tongue tickling his ear.

“Yes,” he moans. “Please, dear. More.” He’s already reduced to monosyllabic vocabulary. He loves this so much, adores Crowley like this. So raw. Fierce. Wild.

Erotic.

He’s so lucky the demon shares himself this way. In this form. Crowley shifts again, and Aziraphale trembles with desire; the scales are smooth and cool against his overheated skin, and each shift pulls his bonds a little tighter. Spreads his legs a little wider.

“Ssseemsss I caught myssself and angel.” Crowley’s voice is directly in his ear now. He feels the demon’s breath on his neck. “Now what ssshould I do with you?”

“I’m yours,” Aziraphale pants.

“Yessss,” Crowley smirks. “Miiine.”

Aziraphale whimpers when Crowley’s fangs sink into his shoulder. Heat blooms at the site, then rushes throughout the rest of his body, and with it, arousal. Within seconds he is dripping wet, and begging to be filled.

“Fuck me, Crowley. Please! Fill me!”

Crowley’s tail flicks over Aziraphale’s glistening cunt while his tongue flutters in his ear. “I can sssmell how much you need it. I can tassste it, angel. But I have a quessstion for you.”

“Anything. Anything, Crowley.”

“Do you want one after the other, or do you want—“ the serpent pauses, flickering his tongue again. “Both at the sssame time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea whether I would be able to pull this off or not, but damn it I wasn't excited to try! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy as well!


End file.
